


Petal Steps

by You_Light_The_Sky



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, M/M, Magical Realism, Skating fic but with magic realism, hints of anxiety, hints of depression, rated for Yurio's language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10439070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Light_The_Sky/pseuds/You_Light_The_Sky
Summary: Everyone in the Katsuki family has a magical talent. Mari’s origami comes to life, their mother’s cooking brings up good memories of home, and Yuuri… When he moves, flowers grow. Viktor hasn’t believed in magic in a long time, despite his late mother’s claims that the Nikiforov family is cursed…





	1. The Katsuki Family

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a while, since YOI ended, along with 2 other YOI fics I haven't posted yet. This anime means a lot to me and this work isn't the greatest, but I hope that you enjoy it. Thank you.

Hasetsu has always been a small town united under one agreement—never tell outsiders about the Katsuki family.

“The Katsukis are blessed by spirits and gods,” her uncle says, “that’s why we shouldn’t let travellers know what they can do. We must protect them.”

Yuuko, of course, doesn’t get _why_ everyone’s so protective of the Katsuki family. It seems strange, all these different families gathering up to protect the nice people who run the hot springs. On the news, reporters call people like the Katsukis ‘gifted’ or ‘spirited.’ Yuuko often sees these Gifted performing tricks on TV like making metal fly or turning their hair different colours. Shouldn’t the Katsukis do the same thing? It seems surreal to have such magical people living nearby, living so _normally._

But then she meets Yuuri.

*

“Yuuko, can you go check to see if the lights are off for Ms. Nishigori? Just peek in the ice rink,” her uncle says, before turning back to talk with the other adults.

“Got it!” She rushes back through the change rooms towards the rink. If she hurries, she might be back home in time to catch another episode of that magical girl anime after homework.

“Hello?” Yuuko pokes her head through the rink, marveling at how big it is. She can’t even imagine how big the rinks in cities like Tokyo must be. The one in Ice Castle already feels like a huge stadium for a star.

Her voice carries over a little, but not too far. Yuuko decides to shout louder, just in case, when she sees a lone spotlight still focused on the ice.

“Oh!” Yuuko rushes out. She knows where the switches are. But just as she reaches them, she sees a little figure moving smoothly through the light.

He’s a chubby little thing, awfully cute with those cheeks, but when he skates, Yuuko feels like she’s watching an ice spirit give form to music as something to touch. He dances like he’s part of the air, like he’ll take off and glide to the stars. With every tilt of his hands, the expression on his face, Yuuko feels like she can hear the arpeggios of a soft piano, singing every lilt of the boy’s emotions.

“Wow,” Yuuko breathes, unable to take her eyes off him.

That’s when she sees the flowers, blooming in the ice trails of the boy’s skates. Crystal-like, sparkling in the spotlight, they cast pretty hues of colour all over the rink. Each petal shines bright, glistening for a few precious moments, before melting back into the ice. Soft amaryllises and white anemones for the _shy_ and _sincere_ in the Japanese language of flowers, all glinting at the boy, expressing his heart.

Three jumps later, the boy finishes with a pose, one hand reaching for the sky while the other rests in his heart. He stares up at the spotlight as if searching for a sign, another voice. Ice cherry blossoms trail around him, all of them as _gentle_ and _kind_ as their language suggests.

“That was _AMAZING!_ ” Yuuko has to cheer, because the boy has to know that someone was listening. He’s not alone. He’s _not_. “I’ve never seen anyone my age dance like that! Do you skate in competitions? Do you want to? I have no idea how you made those flowers appear but _WOW!_ ”

Immediately the boy falls on his back.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?” Yuuko rushes over, no skates be damned.

“I, I,” the boy fumbles around with his hands, “Y-you s-saw that?!”

“Well—”

“P-please don’t tell a-anyone s-strange about m-me! I was just m-messing around! Th-there w-weren’t flowers!” he flails, though the melting ice blossoms around them beg to differ.

 _Awww_ , she wants to squish his cheeks.

“I won’t say anything! I promise! Besides, why would you hide that? Flowers are so pretty!”

The boy blushes, sliding back, and more soft white petals slip out of his steps.

“You…. you really mean it?”

“Of course I do!”

Slowly, the boy smiles at her, and it’s like watching a small bud open up for the first time.

“T-thank you!” he bows his head. “E-everyone but my family always s-says that it’s w-weird for a boy to have th-this kind of power but you… just… _thank you so much!_ ”

That’s the moment that Yuuko feels Yuuri-struck (as Phichit will affectionately dub the sensation) for life. _I must protect this boy_ , she thinks, taking his hands and declaring them best friends right then and there. _I won’t let anyone make him ashamed of his gift._

*

The Katsukis, Yuuko learns, have been able to create ‘little blessings’ all their life.

“Everyone on my mum’s side can do something,” Yuuri quietly explains to her during their weekly skate sessions.

Granny Sayako could make the clouds dance as she sang, Yuuri says, and when she died, the sky wept. Hiroko, his mum, cooks food that reminds you of your happiest memories when you eat it. Katsudon is her speciality but Yuuri tells Yuuko that Hiroko’s desserts always make him feel fluffy inside. Mari, his older sister, folds paper cranes that come to life and hop on people’s shoulders. Yuuko squeals when Yuuri shows her his little origami dog Vicchan that Mari made, apparently the little guy always hides in Yuuri’s sleeve for comfort.

Their family seems to be made of kindness, as if joy naturally rushes through their veins. Their magic makes Yuuko want to treasure it for herself and keep it hidden and unblemished.

That’s the thing about magic. It can make people so unselfishly selfish and selfishly unselfish all the time.

*

“Yuuri?” Yuuko asks when they’re tired from running down the beach, watching sunflowers blossom in the hungry sand.

“Hm?” he turns to her, busy teasing Vicchan with a stalk of grass. The little paper dog barks and runs up Yuuri’s arm, trying to catch the grass with its paws.

“Why don’t you want more people to know about your gift?”

Yuuri goes quiet and Vicchan whines, nuzzling his human’s ear and glaring at Yuuko with little blotty ink eyes.

“I’m sorry!” she forgets sometimes that Yuuri can be so fragile, one sentence can tear his happy day apart and Yuuko is left trying to figure out how to coax it back together again. “I know you don’t like talking about it…”

“I, um, I love skating.”

Yuuko tries not to laugh. “I know that, silly.”

Yuuri scowls.

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on!”

Eyes darting to Yuuko and then Vicchan, as if to make sure she keeps her promise, Yuuri says, “Well. I want to skate for _real_. Like Viktor Nikiforov does! Without magic, without flowers. They won’t let me skate in the world championships if I do magic while I perform. That’s the rule. So I want to control it. I want to be better.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Yuuko thinks about the scandals with athletes losing their careers because they had been playing with a blessed gift. People blessed with quick speed by wind spirits, for example, can’t compete in marathons or swimming. Most sports just ban magic users altogether, since blessed humans are relatively rare compared to everyone else. Someone like Yuuri though, whose magic is just happy to grow when he dances, whose magic just _happens_ , shouldn’t be banned from skating. It’s not fair.

“I’ll help you!” she decides.

Yuuri blinks slowly at her.

“I’ll help you be the best figure skater ever! And you’ll learn how to hide your gift, I promise!”

Slowly, Yuuri smiles back.

 


	2. The Nikiforov Curse

“Everyone you touch, will betray you,” Mama used to say. 

Like an alarm clock, she would greet each new day with this warning, this reminder, and Viktor had never really understood it. Mama still brushed his hair and straightened his clothes up, she still bandaged his knees and Viktor could never think of making her sad on purpose.

“That’s different,” Mama would smile, as rare as hearing Papa’s name in their house, “you’re  _ my  _ son.”

And Viktor wore that proudly every day.

But he didn’t start noticing things were wrong for a long time. 

Mama had him homeschooled for years and Viktor always kept close to her when they went shopping together. While Viktor was always eager to shake hands with strangers and talk chat with cashiers, Mama corralled him away, glaring at anyone who came near. The only concession Mama would allow were the skating lessons.

Skating was what connected Viktor with Mama the best. Mama used to be the world champion, she displayed her medals proudly and always corrected his posture with enthusiasm. She spoke of countless shows, travelling the world, of men and women falling at her feet because of her beauty.

“When I skate, I can be truly alone. And free. I want you to experience the same things, darling,” she used to hold him like they were pair skating, like she was lifting him up to be a bird.

Mama wouldn’t do this with anyone else. She wouldn’t fix the other students’s postures at the rink or pat them on the back. She brushed away any casual touches and glared icily at Viktor’s teachers, every time they adjusted his arms for the right pose. 

“Be vigilant, my darling,” she would whisper as she tucked him into bed, “people are often two-faced. They won’t hesitate to speak cruelly of you or stab you in the back while pretending they are angels. No, darling, it’s better only to trust yourself.”

She never smiled at Viktor’s rinkmates or said hello when Viktor brought friends over. She seemed to live eternally in that house, surrounded by old medals, only coming to life when Viktor brought pieces of the ice back to her.

“Brilliant. You shine like a diamond out there,” she would pull him close after they rewatched his performance on their old VCR for the third time. “You’re untouchable,” she would repeat like a prayer.

“This again, Mama?” He remembers rolling his eyes and poking her cheek. “I’m too old for ghost stories,” because what else could that be but a story?

She would narrow her eyes and turn her head away. “Magic isn’t a story, Vitya. It’s very  _ very  _ real and our family has been cursed for a long time. If I can give you something to live for, other than  _ people _ , that will be enough.”

Viktor didn’t argue back then. Not enough. He loved her smiles too much. He didn’t tell her that his rinkmates were hilarious and he wished he knew how to be friends with them without being too loud. He didn’t tell her that Yakov was always buying him dinner to take home for her or that her old coach asked for her health.

Blessed or gifted humans might walk the earth, might enchant audiences with magician’s shows and cooking channels but they didn’t exist here in this house or in Viktor’s world. Just stories about people who summon birds or make water dance through the air. Just stories like the one Mama told Viktor about Papa, that he died when Viktor knows he left voluntarily.

“It’s not real,” he said once and that day, she locked herself in her room, muttering about betrayals even from blood. Viktor never said it again.

He just skated for her, for her smile, for something  _ happy  _ to happen to her. No matter how small.

...And she died quietly in her sleep, on an ordinary winter day. Silent. Almost a footnote. Five people came to her funeral. Three old coaches. Viktor. And his dog.

He closed his eyes and promised never to believe in curses.


	3. Falling for Skaters

Phichit’s not sure what to make of his new roommate. He’d been excited about meeting another figure skater, especially _the_ Yuuri Katsuki _,_ someone who Phichit remembers watching on live television and clapping for. His step sequences are amazing. Something about Katsuki trembles as he skates, like a fountain of spring water about to burst into droplets of sun-kissed rainbows, but Phichit’s yet to see all of that potential shine through Katsuki’s skating.

Instead, Katsuki seems to bottle it all up until it’s too much and his limbs fall out of place in a way that’s almost robotic. Forced.

Off the ice, Katsuki is as jumpy as a rabbit, always tip-toeing around Phichit in a way that’s almost offensive but Katsuki somehow makes it look adorable, especially when he waddles away in his layers of sweaters. Phichit had to resist the urge to glomp his new roommate several times, half-convinced Katsuki is haphephobic. Besides, Katsuki’s the cook in their apartment, and Phichit’s learned that you never want to piss off the cook.

Still, Phichit can’t help but feel distant from Katsuki. And a bit disappointed. He’d love to be closer, but it’s hard when his roommate avoids being around him unless they’re skating or having dinner. He’d love to ask Katsuki what his parents are like, what music he loves, if he likes hamsters… but Katsuki always seem afraid of him.

Well, it’s only been two weeks. Phichit will make close friends eventually, it’s just taking longer because he’s a foreigner in a new country, that’s all…

Maybe Phichit should bring home some Thai food, show Katsuki a taste of Thailand! Then he and Katsuki can bond over food, and Katsuki can take a break from cooking (not that Phichit is complaining, Katsuki’s meals are _delicious_ ) and he’ll thank Phichit and they won’t be awkward roomies!

With that in mind, Phichit scours the internet for the best (yet affordable) Thai place and then leaves class early. Operation befriend-an-introvert commence!

*

“ _Hello_ roommate, I got us some dinner…!” Phichit’s jaw drops.

Katsuki, in the middle of a smooth arabesque, freezes in mid-pose, looking more like a dying tree than a ballerina now, with clouds of daisies and jasmine floating softly around him. On his head, Phichit swears he sees a paper dog _move_. But that’s not possible because origami can’t come to life. Nope.

And then it barks. Quite loudly. The kind of aggressive growling that can only come from the pent-up rage of a protective tiny dog.

Katsuki _eeps_ and falls over, scrambling to gather all the fallen blossoms in his arms. “I can explain! Um—”

“Holy shit,” Phichit breathes.

“—I didn’t meant to hide it or anything, it just _happens_ sometimes, when I forget to control it and—”

“You’re _magical_. I have a _magic_ roommate, this is _awesome!_ ”

“Um,” Katsuki blinks at him, glasses lopsided, “you’re not mad?”

“Are you kidding, I was trying to resist the urge to squeeze the hell out of you for being so nice but I’m gonna have to hug you now. Sorry.”

“Wait, um…!”

Phichit hugs the hell out of him. He’s… probably going to do this again, Katsuki is pretty cuddly.

*

“So do the flowers just pop out of thin air?! Do you need soil for them? Are they going to wilt? Can I take a picture of you doing this flower thing and post it on instagram?” Phichit asks, too awed to touch the leftover daisies and jasmine.

“Wait, wait, wait! Too many questions!” Katsuki flails. “No, they just sort of appear because of the magic in the air, yes there’s magic in the air. And no, they don’t need soil. Sometimes they vanish and sometimes they stay, it depends on how I feel. I’m not sure how it works, and _no please don’t post pictures of this online, it’s supposed to be a secret!_ ”

“But why, it’s so cool! The internet will love you! _I_ love you!” and while Phichit’s sure Katsuki will take this a joke, Phichit really really means it now, because how can you not fall for a person who makes flowers grow when they walk, holy moly, “You looked gorgeous!”

“I’llbekickedoutasaskater!”

And…. Phichit totally forgot about that rule in athletics. Damn.

“That’s not fair! It’s not like you’ll be playing hockey and people will accidentally slip on flower petals. It’s just you on the ice, unless you decide to pair skate. And you can control it too, I’ve never seen any petals when you skate on tv.”

“But I _can’t_ control it, and now _you know,_ so the whole _world_ is gonna know, and they’ll call me a liar and I’ll have to live on the streets and—”

“Hey, don’t cry! I’ll keep your secret, I promise! If I don’t, you have permission to bury my body!”

Katsuki looks horrified at the thought, but the watery eyes are gone so Phichit calls that a win.

“...So… you do ballet?”

Katsuki fidgets while the little paper dog curls up against his neck. “Yeah. Um. Sometimes I just… dance when I get… nervous, I guess? That’s not the right word for it, it’s hard to say in English…”

“Tell me about it! English is such a weird language. Like, why have three different spellings and meanings for a word that sounds the same: they’re, their, and there?! And don’t get me started on the street talk…”

*

They end up talking the whole night. About food and pets (yes! Yuuri _does_ like hamsters, hello future co-parent of four-to-ten hamsters), about homesickness and dancing (Phichit _has_ to take Yuuri breakdancing). And when Phichit makes Yuuri laugh after he talks about how obsessed Americans seem to be with guessing what country he’s from, Phichit knows they’re going to be friends for life.

*

“How _do_ you keep this secret?” Phichit asks because now that he knows, Yuuri doesn’t really try very hard to hide it. Every time Yuuri skips or walks around in their apartment, new daisy chains or sunflowers seem to trails from his foot steps. Their apartment smells amazing, and Phichit’s glad he’s not allergic, but it’s getting harder to find places to put the flowers.

Sometimes the flowers disappear on their own, if Yuuri’s feeling nervous and homesick. Sometimes, they just give flower chains to the neighbours. Phichit likes to press some flowers in his dvd cases after Yuuri told him how his parents like to scrapbook every petal they can and Phichit likes to hang flowers from every shelf in their living room. It seems like Yuuri _feels_ so much that flowers just flow and flow and flow.

“Oh no,” Yuuri pales, “did I bury Arthur again?!” He starts wading through the new pile of blossoms, frantically trying to find their first hamster son.

“No, no, Arthur’s cool. He’s trying to eat Vicchan again,” Phichit points to the table.

“ _Arthur, NO!_ ” Yuuri rushes in, scooping up his origami dog into his hands. Arthur, the chubby little thing, only scrunches his nose eventually. “It’s okay, Vicchan, I won’t let the hamsters eat you. Just stay on my shoulder okay?”

Honestly, Phichit thinks Vicchan does this on purpose to get more attention from his owner. There are practically ink hearts in the origami dog’s eyes. Phichit’s not sure how Yuuri hides Vicchan during lectures and practise, but maybe people are just unobservant. After all, seeing a guy walking around with origami in his hair is weird enough, no one expects the origami to actually _bark_ at them.

“Yuuko helped me a lot,” Yuuri says suddenly, “She’s my childhood friend. You’d like her.”

“Ooo, a crush?” Phichit waggles his eyebrows, trying to beat away the envy of someone knowing more about Yuuri than he does.

“No, no, no, no! Just a friend! Why do people always think that when I mention her?!”

Phichit snorts. “Because platonic male/female friendship apparently doesn’t exist?”

Yuuri stares at him blankly. “No hetero, Phichit. No hetero.”

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Phichit chokes up in laughter, “ _did you just?!_ Can I keep you?! That’s it, I’m keeping you.”

“I wouldn’t make a good husband,” Yuuri smiles (lies, Phichit will snatch this boy up if he’s still single by thirty), “but honestly, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Yuuko and my family helping me out. We had to do a lot of training exercises… I know too many meditation routines now…”

“Meditation?” Phichit tries not to think of the stereotypical training montage, with Yuuri standing underneath a waterfall.

“Yeah… I just… I’m not good at… _not_ feeling things. I just… I get wrapped up in my head and it shows through my skating and all the flowers… When I’m calmer, I can stop them from appearing.”

“Oh…” That explains why Yuuri’s televised performances always seem lacking. For such an emotional performer, to pent up all that emotion, it must be killing him. Phichit tries to imagine what Yuuri must skate like if he were allowed to use his magic, tries to imagine petals flowing through his movements…

“Will you skate for me?” Phichit asks.

Yuuri gapes at him. “But…”

“Please?”

*

They sneak into the rink after hours and do a few warm-ups. For the first time, Phichit sees Yuuri completely relaxed on the ice and it’s like meeting an entirely new person. Phichit watches Yuuri dancing as if he was born from the ice, followed by crystal flowers like something from a fairy tale and thinks of how unfair the world can be.

*

“We need to make a YouTube channel,” Phichit decides one day.

“Um, okay? Is it going to be a channel about the hamsters…?”

“Nope,” though that’s not a bad idea, he knows Arthur is definite internet star quality, “it’s going to be a skating channel. Starring _you_.”

Yuuri nearly chokes on his breakfast. “ _What?!_ That is a _terrible_ idea!”

“No, listen! You don’t even have to show them your face. You’ll be the mysterious masked skater, Tuxedo Lutz!”

“Phichit, that’s even worse!”

“And you’ll be using magic and skating your own routines with music _you_ choose, and it’s going to look amazing. You won’t get caught, I swear it.”

“But—”

“Please, Yuuri?” Phichit uses the puppy eyes he knows Yuuri can’t resist, and even Vicchan whines by Yuuri’s sleeve. Good dog. “I know how miserable you are during practise, when you have to hold back. Wouldn’t it be nice to show the world what you can do? Wouldn’t it be nice to just… _skate_ how you want?”

He sees Yuuri’s gaze waver, drift off to all the possibilities.

“...I’ll be in disguise?”

“Yes! I’ll even get you a wig and everything! How do you feel about blue hair?”

Yuuri wrinkles his nose. “Uh…”

“And don’t you ever think these rules are unfair? How do you think the world would react if an anonymous youtuber just showed everyone that some magic isn’t cheating, that some magic makes sports _better_!”

“Phichit… they don’t know that. It _is_ cheating to them.”

“But it’s _not!_ It’s just a natural part of you and it makes you even more amazing than you already are. Just... think about it, okay?”

*

He sees Yuuri drift off in thought for the rest of the week. Even Vicchan can’t get Yuuri’s attention, not even when he tears up Yuuri’s post-it notes or tries to unravel his sweaters. Flowers vanish and wrinkle into little buds, afraid to open up.

Part of Phichit regrets bringing up the idea, but the rest of him knows this is right. Yuuri shouldn’t be hiding his magic, unless he really wants to… and if Yuuri chooses otherwise, well, Phichit will support him.

*

“...Did you really mean it when you said my magic makes things… well, better?”

Phichit leaps up from his dreadful essay and nods eagerly.

“But… isn’t that cheating, anyways? At least in skating?”

“Hey, you don’t get points for magic! You get points for presentation and jumps! The flowers don’t affect your ability to do step sequences… they just make you more confident because they’re a natural part of you! Don’t you want to show the world?”

Yuuri crumples up his fists. “I just… I just want to _skate_. That’s all. I want… I want to be me, and I can only do that when I skate… does that… does that make sense?”

He thinks of the contradictions in introverts who wants to be heard yet need to take time to be alone, just to recharge. He thinks of Yuuri who has a beautiful stage presence that’s just bubbling to be heard. The desire for connection even if he shies away from it.

“Yeah… of course it does.”

“Then,” Yuuri nods, “I want to try this thing. Just for a little bit.”

“ _OH my god,_ YES! Just wait until I text Yuuko, she’ll die of feels—”

“Wait, how do you know Yuuko?!”

“Your instagram. Just because you don’t update it doesn’t mean I can’t look through your friends list.”

*

Yuuko isn’t fond of the youtube idea, saying something about protecting Yuuri’s talent and hiding it from the world, blah blah, duties. Phichit manages to change her mind by asking her to help him design Yuuri’s Tuxedo Lutz outfit. They have fun exchanging drafts of a sparkly navy masquerade mask and creating a wig that looks as dark as the night sky with streaks of moonlit sparkles in it. The outfit itself they decide to base on the theme of ice melting into spring. The top of the shirt looks like shards of ice melting into a feather pattern of aquamarine and light green.

“...That doesn’t look like a Tuxedo,” Yuuri says but his eyes betray his smile.

“You need to watch more anime,” Phichit laughs, promising to introduce Yuuri to _Sailor Moon_ later.

Their first video has Yuuri skating in the moonlight to a rendition of _Salut D’Amour_.

Their video gets over three hundred thousand hits by the first day.

*

Yuuri buries himself in blankets and blossoms of primroses and violets. The bright contrasting hues of yellow and violet bugs Phichit’s sense of aesthetics but he pulls Yuuri out from the covers anyways.

“Hey, what’s wrong? We’re doing great! Look at all the views!”

“ _Exactly!_ I’m a fraud! Half of them think this is edited! What if someone recognized my face?!”

“Eh, according to comic book and magical girl logic, no?”

Yuuri dives back into his pillows, nearly squashing Vicchan’s tail.

“I can’t do this. I look ridiculous. Why did I do this?!”

“Hey, hey,” Phichit kneels down, brushes purple blooms from Yuuri’s head. “You were _great_ out there. I’ve never seen you skate like that. Didn’t you have fun?”

“...Yes. No. Maybe.”

Phichit frowns, unsure of what to say. “Well… what did you think about, when you were skating? Why did you decide to do it?”

Slowly, Yuuri peeks out from his pillow. “I wasn’t… really thinking. I just… thought of the first time I saw Viktor Nikiforov skating.”

Huh. Come to think of it, Yuuri’s room is plastered with posters of that guy.

“It was… amazing. I felt like he was bringing the music to life, bringing the concept of _longing_ to life, and I just… I just wanted to skate like that too. I wanted… to share that kind of emotion with someone else too, the way he did for a random Japanese kid like me. So I thought… if I did this video, maybe… maybe I could be someone else’s Viktor, for once.”

“Wow.”

Yuuri groans. “I know. It’s stupid…”

“No it’s not! You, you’re _my_ Viktor, if that counts for anything. And even if you never make another video again, which is totally okay, I’ll keep rewatching the one you made. Thank you for doing this. All of this.”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything, but he does let Phichit crawl in the covers next to him, and Phichit thinks that everything was worth it for this one moment.

*

The next day, Yuuri falls off the bed in a deafening wail.

“What is it?! What’s wrong?!”

“It’s… it’s… it’s _him!_ ”

Phichit grabs Yuuri’s phone, looks at the youtube notifications and gapes.

Viktor Nikiforov, _the real Viktor Nikiforov,_ just commented on their video.

*

 **v-nikiforov:** Wow!! That’s some amazing editing! I wonder why you choose a flower theme? Shouldn’t it be Sailor Petals then instead of Tuxedo Lutz? Jk Jk! But I really love Tuxedo’s step sequences and triple flips! Very smooth! It feels like you’re telling a beautiful story, saying hello to an unfamiliar emotion. Normally that interpretation wouldn’t always work but you pull it off magnificently! Are you a professional skater?? You should be!! The skating world is missing out! You really are _magical._ I hope to see more from you, Tuxedo Lutz ;)))

*

“Isn’t that great? He likes it, Yuuri! Yuuri?”

His roommate has fainted on the floor. Phichit is starting to think Viktor Nikiforov might be bad for his bestie’s health.

 


	4. Falling for Magic

“Viktor!! Viktor, over here! We love you, Viktor!!”

With his best celebrity face, the one that makes crowds faint, Viktor winks at his cheering fans. They explode in fits of adoration, swooning on each other, or reaching out in hopes that Viktor will sign something of theirs. Viktor smiles at the right moments and tells each fan that he will remember them forever. His fingers whoosh in a predictable pattern of a rehearsed signature with variations of ‘good luck Natalia’ or ‘keeping up the good work, Pavel.’ He blows kisses, lets them hug him but never anything more.

*

Every day, Viktor posts at least five selfies or foodie pics on his instagram and/or twitter. He uses an excessive amount of tags and enjoys sneaking off during break to look at the number of likes and retweets. He rereads every fan’s comments, he laughs at some of the jokes and frowns at the rude trolls. He learns way more about shipping than he ever wanted to know. He feels connected.

Hundreds of thousands of people all over the world following his every word, praising or demonizing him. He has power at his fingertips, has instant gratification rushing into his bloodstream. He posts more pictures of Makkachin and tries to convince Georgi to video record him doing another quadruple flip.

“Not right now, Viktor, can’t you see I’m working on my choreography?!” Georgi looks ready to fall over.

“Oh. You’re not done yet? I had mine done ages ago!”

Georgi opens his mouth, then closes it, then huffs and returns to his skating.

Was it something Viktor said? Oh well.

Viktor moves into a flawless flip. No one in the rink watches him.

*

In the past, Viktor tried to get closer to his fans. He signed personal letters to the president of fan clubs and showed up to as many meetings he could to surprise them. But eventually he noticed that these fans started to charge money for others to see him, or they would look at him starstruck but never ask the _real_ questions. They put him on such a high pedestal that Viktor started to wonder if he was really the Viktor Nikiforov they wanted after all.

*

“Georgi, Georgi, check this out! It’s another Haruka Nanase video!” Mila, one of the new skaters at the rink, waves her phone.

“Oooh! Is this a dog video? Poodles?” Viktor skates over, peeking over Georgi and Mila’s shoulders, hoping to have something else to share with his followers on twitter. To his disappointment, he sees a boy tracing droplets of water in the air, droplets that form images of cartoon fish that float after the boy like shadows. “Oh.”

Mila frowns. “What? Not a fan? Do you want to look at videos of that guy who can walk on clouds—”

“I would _love_ to see another Cloud Walker video, how _romantic_ , can you imagine what I could do if I could waltz in the sky with my love? Anya’s hair would blend in with the clouds, she’d look like an angel, I’d—”

“Okay, okay, we know she looks like _stardust_ —”

Viktor slips away, turning back to perfecting another impossible jump. Unlike Nanase or Cloud Walker, he doesn’t need magic to impress his audiences. He has something _real._

*

Sometimes, Viktor goes home, grinning widely when he greets Makkachin at the door. Sometimes, he’s so pleased with the results from practise, he turns to someone who isn’t there, ready to tell her another outrageous tale, only to realize she isn’t there anymore.

Viktor hugs his dog a little tighter on those days.

*

“You…!” Chris stumbles over to Viktor’s seat, only to flop onto his lap. Viktor pauses at the unexpected contact before throwing an arm over his friend and smiling.

“Chris! It’s been a while! How’s the boyfriend?”

“None of that right now!” Chris smells like fine wine and party snacks. “What was with your skating today? Huh?”

“Um…” Viktor goes over today’s performance, nit-picking every detail. “Nothing? It was perfect?” It’s always perfect. Unless…! “Was I too dazzling? Apparently my smile almost made an old man have a heart attack. I’m _that_ devastating.” Now Viktor tries not to smile as wide when he goes to press conferences. It’s easier than it sounds.

“Exactly!” Chris flails like an octopus trying to escape from an aquarium. “ _Too_ perfect! I had my best routine this year too… whyyyy! Urgh,” Chris flops back down. “I’ll beat you next season, don’t get too comfortable with gold.”

“But it’s my colour,” Viktor winks.

“Not for long!” Chris jumps up. “Though…” Chris gets that look, the one that Viktor tends to avoid by handing him more alcohol. Unfortunately, despite being a large banquet party, Viktor can’t spot any glasses nearby. “Your routines seem a bit….”

 _Boring?_ Viktor frowns. _Predictable?_

“...Solemn lately. Are you alright?”

Viktor laughs a bit too loudly and tugs Chris over to the food. “Of course I am. I was just channeling my theme! The lonely prince! Do you like it? I got it from an anime. Did it make you cry?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Anime again?! I can’t believe you’re supposed to be a skating genius… When I found out that your theme last year was inspired by pokemon of all things…”

“That’s a very wholesome show!” Viktor pulls out his phone and lights up the screen so Chris can see the latest Makkachin photo. “Don’t you think my baby would look wonderful in a pikachu costume?”

Chris’s disbelieving chortles are enough of a distraction from the emptiness in his heart.

*

“Viktor, keep your chin up. You can’t afford to be too cocky! One of these days some dark horse will steal the gold from you!” Yakov shouts.

“Let them try,” Viktor shrugs, ignoring Yakov’s booming lecture. Honestly, he’d welcome some honest competition. Everything’s too predictable lately. He keeps recycling the same themes year after year, he’s disappointed the audience hasn’t caught on yet. They will eventually (because journalists are like sharks waiting for the first drop of blood) but at that point Viktor doubts he’ll care.

“And you two! What are you shouting about?!” Yakov points at Mila and Georgi. “It better not be another one of those magical nonsense videos!”

“It isn’t!” Mila insists while Georgi says, “It kind of is…?”

Mila glares at him. “What Georgi is _trying_ to say is that there’s actual skating in this video! Really professional skating! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“But…” Georgi points at the phone, “there are flowers just… _blooming_ everywhere! How do you explain that?!”

“Really good video editing?”

“I don’t care if it’s a video of a penguin being able to do a quadruple flip, get back to practising! We’ve got a new junior practising with us today and I don’t want him picking up any of your bad habits, you delinquents!”

Said new junior, Viktor recalls his name being Yuri Pliesteky or something, aggressively skates past and tries to do another quad much to Yakov’s ire.

“Yura, get back here you little brat and stop doing those damn quads!” Yakov runs off onto the ice.

“Great, he’s distracted! Let’s watch the rest,” Mila grins impishly, offering her earbud to Georgi. She notices Viktor watching and hesitates before waving him over. “Want to watch too? Tuxedo Lutz does some incredible flips, maybe even better than you!”

Viktor puts on his fan smile and shakes his head. “No thank you.” While he may be curious about the skating, he’s not going to watch yet another video about gifted people. Mila’s probably exaggerating this Lutz person’s talents…

*

By the end of practise, everyone at the rink has seen this Tuxedo Lutz video. Even Yakov. Even more surprising, Yakov seems _impressed_.

“We’ll need to work on your step sequences this season, Viktor, if this Tuxedo guy is one of the competitors. Yours are not up to par with his,” Yakov says with determination.

Viktor feels mildly offended. “How do you not know if he’s one of the competitors?”

Yakov gives him a look. “He’s got a mask on, Viktor! You would know if you watched the video! Might as well see what your competition is like.”

If that’s not enough to convince Viktor to watch the video, seeing Yuri glued to his phone with fan-boy awe is. Yuri had stopped given Viktor wide eyes after two days of being at the rink but this Tuxedo Lutz character has Yuri enraptured even after a dozen rewatches.

Fine, Viktor sits down after changing. He’ll watch the video. Only once. Only so he knows.

The video is easy to find, having gone viral after a few hours of posting. Apparently a few international skaters like Phichit Chulanont and Leo de la Iglesia had shared the video on their instagrams, followed by Guang Hong from China and even Seung-gil. Viktor’s not familiar with them, since they’re a younger crowd, but his curiosity is peaked either way.

He turns up the volume on his phone, plugs in his headphones, and clicks the video.

The first notes of _Salut D’amour_ sing smoothly in his ears as he watches a masked skater move out onto the ice. Viktor tries to push away memories of his mother and how she hated this song. But as soon as the masked skater starts to dance, as if blended with the music, as if embodying the very concept of tenderness, Viktor forgets it all.

He watches this skater, this person, build and craft pure and _shy_ love on the ice. He watches the way blue roses seem to slip from his feet in a trail of impossible and magical petals. Tuxedo Lutz skates like he was born to do it, like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to skate, like life only has meaning when he’s on the ice, free to be himself. Tuxedo Lutz skates the way Viktor always dreamed of and before Viktor knows it, the video is over, and his hands are trembling.

Again. He clicks the video, replays it, studies the fluid step sequences, the smooth transitions into jumps, even the way the flowers seem to flow around Tuxedo Lutz as if he’s the sun and they’re planets always helpless in following. Again. He watches the way lighting of the rink dances in Tuxedo Lutz’s glittering hair. Again. He tries to puzzle out where he’s seen this kind of skating before (never, never, never, if he had, he would have chased this skater to the ends of the earth and demanded they be friends.) He tries to see the details of the rink, but he suspects a lot of the recognizable signs of the rink have been edited out.

There _has_ to be more. Viktor checks the channel. Nothing. This is Tuxedo Lutz’s first video. No, no, no, Viktor wants to see _more_.

He starts typing out a comment but nothing properly articulates how he feels, how he’s grounded for the first time in forever to someone who might exist oceans away. Delete. No, no, write something cooler. He tries to calm his beating heart but ends up sending the second version of his comment without looking at it. There. Done. He hopes Tuxedo Lutz responds.

What was it Yakov said? That Tuxedo Lutz might be a competitor? Gods, Viktor hopes so. There’s no way skating that beautiful could be due to a Gift. It has to be video editing… or even the flowers themselves… What _is_ with the flower theme anyways? Does Tuxedo Lutz really like flowers? Viktor tries to imagine the man with a flower crown on his head, or being presented with the biggest bouquet of roses that Viktor can find because someone like that deserves all the roses in the world.

“Uh, Viktor, are you alright?” Georgi peeks in, alarmed by the sudden laughs from the locker room.

“Wonderful! Never been better!” VIktor boasts, giving him a great big hug.

He can’t wait for Tuxedo Lutz to answer him.

*

Three days later Tuxedo Lutz still hasn’t replied to him on youtube. Viktor’s comment has 8 569 likes and 1 456 dislikes and a long reply chain debating which parts of the video are fake and which are legitimate.

Viktor moans into his pillow in despair.

*

The next morning, Viktor wakes up to a notification on his phone that says Tuxedo Lutz has uploaded another video. His eyes widen at the title. _In homage to Viktor Nikiforov._ He clicks on it right away and shoves his earbuds on.

At first, he can’t hear anything. But then he realizes that someone is holding up a few signs in English in front of the camera.

‘ _This video is a tribute to my idol and inspiration Viktor Nikiforov. Thank you for letting me fall in love with skating. And thank you for acknowledging my last video. I can’t tell you anything about who I am, but I can at least show you how much your comment means to me. Please enjoy._ ’

The music starts and Viktor realizes that it’s a remix of all of his past routines put together. He hears the major choruses and themes of his junior Free Skates and Short Programs mixed in with the senior ones in a beautiful musical crescendo up to his current programs. But what blows Viktor’s mind away is how Tuxedo Lutz puts together the memorable aspects of each program into one smooth routine, how he takes what Viktor has done and makes it his own.

The routine is arguably simpler than Viktor’s style of skating, but it _fits_ Tuxedo Lutz so well and somehow Lutz puts far more emotion into the routine than Viktor ever has.

He finds himself crying by the end of the video.

*

 **v-nikiforov:** I don’t know what to say. I’m honestly crying from all my emotions rn. You… are a phenomenal artist, never let anyone tell you otherwise. You say that I’m your inspiration and idol, but I’m not sure if I deserve such a title. If anything, you’ve become _my_ inspiration. And I hope that I get to meet you on the ice someday, Tuxedo Lutz. You’ve stolen my heart with your skating and please consider me your (hopefully biggest) fan.

*

(Unbeknownst to Viktor, an ocean and continent away, one Yuuri Katsuki had to be rushed to the hospital from yet another fainting spell and Phichit has decided to hold a grudge on his friend’s behalf.)

*

Over the next few years, Viktor becomes Tuxedo Lutz’s number one fan. He happily fights internet trolls in the Youtube comments section for the title and always tries to be the first one who comments on Tuxedo Lutz’s videos, sometimes leaving multiple comments when he does a rewatch. He follows the new Tuxedo Lutz instagram (always disappointingly sparse, with only a model shot of the new Tuxedo Lutz outfit or pictures of flowers from the video) and happily sends messages to Tuxedo Lutz in his interviews. “Hope to see you on the ice this year,” he’ll say with a wink, knowing that somewhere out there, Tuxedo Lutz must be listening.

The sweetest thing is how Tuxedo Lutz always leaves a careful reply at the beginning of his videos to Viktor and something warm bubbles in Viktor’s chest that he’s the only one who gets that privilege. No other skater in the world gets a personal address from Tuxedo Lutz in his videos.

The internet has started shipping them too. Viktor happily reblogs fanart of them together, while Mila and Georgi roll their eyes and Yuri calls Viktor a sick old man. Yuri seems to hate Viktor’s idolization of Tuxedo Lutz the most, always envious that Tuxedo Lutz only acknowledges him. It makes Yuri more determined to be dethrone Viktor but that’s what makes his days more fun lately.

Even better, sometimes Tuxedo Lutz actually strikes up a conversation with Viktor over instagram. But only tentative things such as ‘thank you for supporting me as always’ or small birthday wishes. Viktor does the same, too nervous and starstruck to think of better topics for speaking with his idol.

And yet… part of Viktor wonders if it’s all real. Is Tuxedo Lutz a real skater? Is his magic limited to flowers?

 _Who are you?_ Viktor wants to ask one day, but he’s too scared of the answer. It’s better that Tuxedo Lutz stays a distant, unreachable fairy-tale figure. It’s better that Tuxedo Lutz stays a dream.

*

At the 2016 Grand Prix Final, Viktor bumps into a young Asian man in the hallway.

“Sorry about that,” Viktor laughs.

“Oh, it’s fine,” comes out a careful Japanese accent. The stranger pauses, before his eyes widen. “Y-you... ! You’re…!”

Oh. A fan. Viktor pulls out a phone automatically. “Commemorative photo?”

Something flashes in the stranger’s eyes. Hope maybe? Disappointment. Something Viktor can’t name.

“Um. Sure,” he ducks his head down shyly.

Viktor leans in and takes a few quick selfies on his phone and the stranger’s phone before handing it back. He notes how nice the stranger smells and wonders what perfume he uses. Something floral but not too overpowering, something like the first days of spring. “Here you go.”

“Ah, um… thank you. And, well, good luck.”

The stranger dashes away, eyes suspiciously wet, and Viktor feels guilty for reasons he can’t quite explain.

Still, Viktor concentrates on the steps for his new routine. He thought of _Stay Close to Me_ when he was thinking about Tuxedo Lutz and hopes the message reaches the masked skater, even if Viktor doesn’t really want to meet him.

He doesn’t notice the blue rose petals on the ground.


	5. Of Fleeting Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback <3

“Phichit, I want to become the soil. Please bury me in a grave of lotus blossoms and set my corpse on fire before piling dirt on me.”

“If I did that, then who would send cute love letters to your idol via youtube?”

Yuuri groans, burying himself in more blankets and pale pink amaryllises. If his future corpse doesn’t have flowers blooming out of him, he’ll be surprised.

“Why did I do that? Why did you let me do that, Phichit?”

“I believe in respecting one’s agency.” His friend nods wisely while Vicchan barks at him. At least Yuuri still has one person on his side. “Besides, didn’t you _want_ to do that tribute for him?”

“Yes! No! I don’t… I don’t _know_ …” Yuuri flicks away the pink petals forming in his hair. Amaryllis for _shy_ in the Japanese language of flowers, something Phichit loves to poke fun at Yuuri for after he realized that Yuuri’s flowers seem to have secret meanings. Well, not that secret. Not from Phichit’s wikipedia powers. “I just felt so… so honoured. Touched. I just… wanted to do something for him.”

“Which is totally fine! He loved it, didn’t you see his comment?”

“He called him his _inspiration_. I’ve never… Well I can’t be that for him! I’m just… just Yuuri!”

He’s never inspired anyone before. He feels so much that flowers just explode from his footsteps, he’s a mess that has to carry around a dustpan to get rid of the floral messes he makes everywhere he goes. He barely made it into Junior Figure Skating in Japan. He’s sucking up money from his parents’ finances to feed his pointless pipe dream, he’s—

The bed sinks down as Phichit sits next to him. Quietly, Phichit leans far enough so that their shoulders aren’t touching but close enough so Yuuri can feel Phichit’s warmth. “...Do you want a hug?”

Too overwhelmed to say anything, Yuuri only nods.

Phichit’s arms are as comforting as his mother’s bowls of katsudon, as Mari-neesan’s shoulder hugs, as his father’s lullabies. They’re a solid contrast against Yuuri’s frantic heartbeat, a heartbeat that sings something unfamiliar and bright within him.

 _Ah,_ Yuuri thinks as his heart pounds all around him, in his ears, in his head, and hi, _I’m this frazzled because I’m happy. Being noticed by Viktor Nikiforov, having friends like Yuuko and Phichit… I’m so_ so _happy._

It’s an impossible thought, as freeing as the ice.

He tries not to grin too much as he hugs Phichit back but with bluebells falling all over the bed, a shower of _grateful_ blue, he’s sure Phichit knows.

*

Being Tuxedo Lutz is like a transformation to the Yuuri Katsuki he’s alway wanted to be. As Tuxedo Lutz, he’s beautiful and handsome, he’s confident, he can be sexy if he wants. He can wink and flirt or be as expressive as an impressionist painting. The flowers aren’t blotches that could sink his career, but something that lifts up his performance and somehow gets him Viktor Nikiforov’s attention.

“I think it would be cheating,” Yuuri mutters one day, as he helps Phichit sew the newest costume (the new Tuxedo Lutz instagram keeps lighting up with likes and comments.)

“Adding more sparkles?” Phichit blinks, surrounded by different bottles of glitter.

“No, I meant, skating while using my Gift. The flowers, they’d just… add a boost to my performance score. There’s no way to be objective about them.”

Phichit’s eyes widen. “No, I mean…! Well…!” Phichit’s nose scrunches up. “You can always… wait....! Urgh,” Phichit buries his face in his hands. “Sometimes I hate this subjective sport. Fine, then we need to start a _skating revolution_ , maybe figure out a way to bend the rules so they _have_ to let you skate with flowers or…!”

“It’s okay, Phichit,” Yuuri insists, and for once, he feels that it really is. “I’m happy with the way things are now. When I’m Tuxedo Lutz… I can be someone else… and when I’m a professional skater, I can challenge myself to keep control.”

Phichit’s scowl is hard to take seriously when there’s glitter stuck to his hair and nose. “You shouldn’t have to!”

Yuuri shrugs. “I just have to be better that’s all.”

Phichit glowers at the television. “You already are.”

No. Not really. But Yuuri appreciates the thought.

*

Apparently Viktor Nikiforov thinks the same as Phichit because he keeps _messaging_ Yuuri on the Tuxedo Lutz instagram. Saying ‘hi’ ( _bonjour my favourite person!_ ), asking about Yuuri’s outfits ( _you should do a flower spirit design!)_ , insisting that Tuxedo Lutz try out for the professional skating business if he hasn’t already ( _you’d steal the gold medal from me for sure, but not without some fierce competition from the fabulous moi!_ ) When Yuuri feels brave enough, he messages first with timid thanks or wishes Viktor luck in future competitions.

Honestly, the first time Viktor messaged Yuuri ( _surprise hugs from your favourite skater in the world, my Tuxedo Lutz, my Sailor Flowers  ;D)_ , he almost fell down the stairs and Phichit decided to ban Yuuri from using social media while walking. Phichit seems to like switching back and forth between teasing Yuuri for all his love letters (“You’re like star-crossed lovers!”) to being wary (“If that stupid pretty boy causes more indirect damage to you, I’m gonna slap him. I will. I will sic Vicchan and Arthur on him!” “Phichit, no!”)

It’s so strange and frightening to have someone as amazing as Viktor Nikiforov consistently messaging him with compliments ( _every time you move, my heart just aches in awe and wonder and I want to do another flip in your honour, Sailor Flowers~_ ) and asking for advice about skating ( _do you think hiring people to throw feathers into the rink while I skate is too extra?_ ). Yuuri’s always too shy and flabbergasted to reply with more than a _thank you_ or _please stop giving your coach heart attacks,_ but he adores each text, even if Viktor acts like a total dork in them. When Viktor first started reblogging _fanart_ of them (apparently, in redrawn Sailor Moon panels), Yuuri had to call Phichit into the room to ask if he was hallucinating (he wasn’t.)

It makes Viktor transcend from unreachable idol to someone strangely human. It shouldn’t make Yuuri’s heart beat any faster, but it _does_ (the amount of flowers that Yuuri accidentally creates in their apartment increases threefold.)

He and Viktor don’t really talk about deeper topics, but it’s _something_. If there’s anything Yuuri is grateful for, from all this Youtube stardom, it’s having the chance to talk to Viktor, knowing Viktor thinks he is worth something even if Yuuri doesn’t always believe that.

Viktor’s words make Yuuri’s ‘professional’ skating more refined, controlled. He even somehow scrapes his way up into the 2016 Grand Prix Final and he has to resist the urge to tell Viktor, to thank him, to say _your words got me this far to meet you_ , because Viktor doesn’t know him. Not really. Not Yuuri Katsuki.

The day before his flight to Sochi though, Yuuri gets a message saying _can we talk?_ and he nearly crushes Vicchan by accident from the shock. Vicchan growls and nips at Yuuri’s fingers (he’ll have a paper cut later) but Yuuri can’t even concentrate on the pain as he tries to decipher what this means! Is Viktor going to tell Yuuri that everything was a mistake, Tuxedo Lutz is clearly a fraud and to go away forever? Does Viktor _know_ that Yuuri Katsuki, a nobody skater, is Tuxedo Lutz? Is he disappointed?

Yuuri closes his eyes and counts to ten in his head before he replies _yes_.

> **v-nikiforov:** excellent!! This is nice! I can’t believe we’re online at the same time :D

A hot blush attacks Yuuri. He’s not sure what to say, so he decides to be blunt.

> **tuxedo.lutz:** i’m surprised too. But what did you want to talk about?
> 
> **v-nikiforov:** well, you know my program _Stay Close to Me?_

            **tuxedo.lutz:** oh yes, i do! It’s my favourite program yet! Very nice music!

            **v-nikiforov:** i’m so glad!!! It _is_ inspired by you after all

            **tuxedo.lutz:** lSDJFosjg??? @EKJ??

            **v-nikiforov:** so i was wondering, if i could announce the name of my muse during my next interview…

            **tuxedo.lutz:** please do whatever you like! you don’t need to ask permission!

In fact, Yuuri wonders why Viktor is bothering to ask. Yuuri always dedicates his Tuxedo Lutz videos to the most recent comments of Viktor’s without asking…

            **v-nikiforov:** that’s great! What a relief, i was nervous you would say ‘no’!

            **tuxedo.lutz:** i would never do that!

Yuuri doesn’t think he can ever say no to Viktor, even if his idol is a total dork and sometimes very extra. He wonders if there’s more to this request...

            **tuxedo.lutz:** why would you think that?

Gah, what is Yuuri doing?! He’s being presumptuous, forcing Viktor to interact with him for longer when he might be annoying his idol with another message.

            **v-nikiforov:** you should seem like the shy type. you DO wear a mask after all!

Oh. Okay. That makes sense.

            **tuxedo.lutz:** sorry… it’s just for personal reasons...

            **v-nikiforov:** No, no! I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable! The mask is very cool~!

            **tuxedo.lutz:** you and my costume designer are the only ones who think that

            **v-nikiforov:** liesss!!! I know there are thousands of fans whose hearts go doki doki like mine because of your ultra coolness!

Yuuri bursts out laughing.

            **tuxedo.lutz:** you’re so strange sometimes!

No answer. Oh no. Yuuri just offended him!

            **tuxedo.lutz:** please don’t take it as an insult! What i mean is, you’re so… passionate. And extra sometimes. About things you like, and I just really like that about you. I think this side of you is cool too.

Yuuri nervously waits for the reply. Hopes that Viktor won’t log out on him.

            **v-nikiforov:** thank you

And then—

            **v-nikiforov:** no one’s ever said that to me before

            **v-nikiforov:** so thank you

Warmth rushes all over Yuuri as he happily rereads the message. Part of his heart aches though because honestly, who wouldn’t like the silly and dorky Viktor? He suddenly has an urge to shower his idol in affectionate words, to chase away the insecurity he suspects might be there (is it too presumptuous of him to think that Viktor Nikiforov might be lonely too?)

            **tuxedo.lutz:** it’s true though. I really like that part of you.

Then Yuuri shuts off the phone and shoves it away from him, curling up in his bed, trying to chase away his dancing heart. Vicchan dances happily on his arm, pushing bits of raining peonies for _bravery_ into Yuuri’s nose.

 _I shouldn’t have done that,_ Yuuri thinks. _But I hope it helps. I hope I wasn’t assuming things._

His dreams are haunted by the soft chorus of a lonely _Stay Close to Me._

*

Yuuri feels like throwing up as soon as he walks the hallways of the skating rink. What the heck is he thinking, what the heck were the _judges_ thinking, he _doesn’t belong here_. He wishes he had Phichit by his side (“I’m just one facetime away, darling!”) or even the comfort of the sparkly Tuxedo Lutz outfit but all he has is Vicchan snuggled in his hair and his sweaty palms. Celestino left to find the bathroom and now Yuuri tries to mentally fight off the inevitable panic attack before something drastic happens, like another fainting episode or mutant flowers appearing from his stress or—

He stumbles into someone just as tears blur his vision and when he looks up, he sees Viktor Nikiforov.

For several moments he forgets how to breathe, to speak. “Y-you…! You’re…!”

Viktor’s smile is dazzling, the way it always is during interviews, and Yuuri finds himself wondering what a real smile from Viktor might look like. Then he berates himself for thinking that a simple stranger like himself could ever earn that smile. Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov have no prior history together.

“Commemorative photo?”

 _There, see?_ Yuuri swallows away his illogical hurt, _he doesn’t know you. What did you expect?_

But still, it’s Viktor! He’s actually talking to Viktor! Taking a photo with him! As Yuuri Katsuki, instead of Tuxedo Lutz, what more could he hope for?

Yuuri agrees to the photo, summoning all the happiness he can’t feel. But Viktor is so close that they could be touching, and Yuuri can’t quite get rid of the awful blush when they take their selfie. Viktor is just so beautiful…

Yuuri must be a stain by his side.

_No, no stop, you’re not supposed to feel like this. Be Tuxedo Lutz. Be confident!_

But he can’t! He just, he wants to tell Viktor who he is but he wants to run far away and jump into the sea. He wants to ask Viktor if he ever feels lonely at times, if that’s what his new program really means. He wants to get closer and closer to Viktor, the way no one ever has before.

He hates this so much, this overwhelming collision of feelings always wrecking his senses. He hates that he _feels_ so much, that he can’t process how to act. He hates being so weak.

And so when Viktor hands back his phone, all Yuuri can say is _thank you_ and _good luck_ before rushing off to the nearest bathroom.

He counts to ten, forwards and backwards. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on five things he hears, five things he can feel, until he feels a little more like himself again (whoever that is.) Then he tries to talk himself out of buying the next ticket to Detroit.

That’s when Vicchan crawls out of his hair and bites at his fingers.

“Ow! _Vicchan!_ ”

His little paper poodle only stares at him with deadpan ink eyes before barking and pointing his little paws at his phone. Vicchan barks again, the way he does every time Yuuri gets like this. Too anxious. Too sad. Too everything.

“Do you…” Yuuri takes another breath, “do you think I s-should call Phichit…? Or Yuuko…?”

Vicchan nods. Yes to both then.

With shaking fingers, Yuuri unlocks his phone, only to see the selfie from earlier.

Photo-Yuuri doesn’t look that bad, but Photo-Viktor looks ridiculous in comparison. Photo-Viktor has posed in a trademark Sailor Moon ‘ _we will punish you_ ’ stance with the exact finger guns that look so endearing and strange that Yuuri can’t hold back a snort of affection. Has Viktor always been this silly in fan photos?

Maybe… Yuuri’s heart beats faster, there’s a chance that Yuuri Katsuki could get along with Viktor Nikiforov too.

He just has to skate his best.

*

He _cannot_ skate his best, this is a nightmare. His legs are shaking. He had to stop Vicchan from being accidentally drowned in the remains of spilt coffee by hiding the paper dog in his bag. Celestino has tried to get Yuuri’s attention at least ten times now. And oh no, he’s about to go onto the ice next, noooooo….!

“Breathe Yuuri, breathe,” Celestino grips his shoulders with soothing tones.

He tries to. He really does.

“Just think about the music,” Celestino tries again. Right. The music that Phichit ended picking for him from some mobile game called _Deemo_. “The music is all that exists.”

Yuuri closes his eyes and lets Celestino take his glasses. “Okay,” he nods, skating to the blurry ice. The audience becomes a smudged surround-sound painting of slippery watercolours. But even with the sound of their clapping, their voices, all Yuuri can hear is his pounding pulse screaming for petals to be let out of his steps.

Yuuri doesn’t let them come. Self-control, like Mari-neesan and Yuuko taught him.

He thinks, instead of Viktor Nikiforov’s instagram message, of making his idol’s heart go ‘doki-doki.’ He thinks of standing next to Viktor as himself (whoever that is) and being able to meet Viktor on the same footing.

 _Look at me_ , he doesn’t dare whisper, _Let me make your heart beat faster too._

Then the music plays.

And Yuuri…. Skates.

*

The piece is called _Encumbrance_ by Rabpit. ‘Encumbrance’ meaning something that encumbers, something that is a burden or useless. Yuuri remembers balking at the title when he looked it up on the internet but then Phichit had him listen to the song and Yuuri felt the story come to life from the first mellow (yet uplifting) notes.

He knows that in the context of the video game _Deemo_ , that _Encumbrance_ means something very different. But Yuuri’s ‘encumbrance’, Yuuri’s story in the music, speaks of a lone dancer that has decided to start spontaneously spinning in the rain because he’s depressed, and he just… wants to _stop_ being depressed, stop feeling anything. And in moving, in _dancing_ and letting go, he becomes lighter. Freer. Maybe not happier, not quite yet.

But in that moment of careless and reckless play, there’s hope.

*

When Yuuri opens his eyes, blinded by the light reflected from the ice, by the smudges of audience members, he realizes that he’s crying.

*

Later, when Celestino cheers about Yuuri being ranked second (for now) in the Short Program scores, Yuuri reviews his performance in his head. He can’t remember how he did, how his step sequences looked or even his jumps. He’s sure he must have messed something up, _somewhere_ , (he always does) because he doesn’t seem any petals around but apparently he didn’t? Apparently his program was near perfect for someone of his level and Yuuri still can’t quite believe it.

He’s so lost in shock that he barely pays attention to the remaining short programs (unfortunately he missed Viktor’s) and he doesn’t see the blue rose petals near the Kiss and Cry as he leaves it. But a certain junior narrows his eyes, kicking those very same petals away into a corner.

*

His family and Phichit cheer for him in both facetime calls and Yuuri feels the urge to puke. He’s in third now, after Viktor and Chris, and he has no idea how he got there. It’s a fluke, it has to be, he’s going to screw up during the Free Skate tomorrow and make his whole country so disappointed in him that he’ll be exiled from Japan and—

A message pops up on his phone. Instagram. Yuuri nearly chucks the phone across the bed, but at Vicchan’s judging look, Yuuri opens it.

            **v-nikiforov:** i hope you were watching me again, my Sailor Flowers!

And then, before Yuuri can answer—

            **v-nikiforov:** i skated for _you!_

Yuuri can’t help the overwhelming blush or the strange noise that comes from him. Or the ridiculous grin that spreads across his face. Even as acquaintances, mere strangers oceans apart, Viktor somehow encourages him (even if he doesn’t know it.)

            **tuxedo.lutz:** i didn’t get to catch your program this time

            **v-nikiforov:** D:

            **tuxedo.lutz:** but i promise i will be watching your free skate. it’s my favourite, after all

_So please, watch me too._

Yuuri shuts the phone off and lays back on his bed. This isn’t the time to lose sleep, not yet. He can freak out after tomorrow. This might be his only chance to be on the same ice as Viktor, as Yuuri Katsuki. Who knows if Yuuri will make it to the Grand Prix next year with his subpar skating. But if this is his only chance, than Yuuri will take it and perform the best Free Skate of his career, the best one he can do as his current self, even if petals fall from his feet.

He can’t do anything less in front of Viktor, in front of this man who unknowingly pushed Yuuri this far even if he doesn’t know it.

*

Yuuri feels oddly calm at the rink this morning, as if he’s walking underwater. Every moment feels slowed down, longer, Yuuri can barely hear Celestino whispering advice in his ear. He only has eyes for Viktor Nikiforov.

His idol has a lost look on his face, staring deeply at his phone for some reason, when he looks up and catches Yuuri’s eyes in surprise.

Yesterday, Yuuri might have darted away, might have tripped, or pretended he was doing stretches. But Yuuri feels a bit more like Tuxedo Lutz today, he feels like the dancer from _Encumbrance,_ ready to jump in the rain and let everything out. He beams at Viktor and nods his head.

Looking oddly flushed (Yuuri hopes Viktor isn’t ill), Viktor nods slowly back.

The announcers call Yuuri’s name.

He’s ready.

*

Wataru Hikaru’s _You Only Live Once_ echoes in the rink, filling the air and Yuuri’s lungs. He loves this mix, the Everlasting one, there’s something enchanting about it. Yuuri could never really encompass the full spectrum of this song during practise, it was more of Phichit’s thing. But today, Yuuri can understand the reckless exhilaration of the notes, so uplifting. Today, Yuuri knows who to picture when Wataru Hikaru sings, ‘you’re so beautiful tonight.’

He thinks of Yuuko hugging him when they first met, her delighted face as she met Vicchan. He thinks of Mari-neesan spinning Yuuri around in her arms, of his Mom’s cooking lessons, of his dad trying to rope him into karaoke. He thinks of Phichit being so constant, transforming him into a fairytale figure like a friendly godmother.

And he thinks of Viktor, imagines what a genuine smile from him might be like.

His performance feels a bit melancholy, nostalgic, (lovesick, some bloggers on fan forums), and yet it’s filled with undeniable joy and love.

Yuuri’s jumps aren’t very strong and he has to rein himself in sometimes to keep flowers from spreading… but he’s laughing and wheezing by the end of it.

He’s never enjoyed a competitive skate like this before.

*

Yuuri comes in Third. Chris takes the Silver, while Viktor takes the Gold he deserved. His version of _Stay Close to Me_ was so gorgeous that Yuuri had to run to the bathroom so no one would see him sobbing over it. Somehow, _Stay Close to Me_ felt more longing than ever, more like a call for someone to meet Viktor on the ice. Yuuri expected Viktor to look happier about his gold medal, but somehow that smile of Viktor’s feels as distant as ever.

*

The photos take a while but afterwards, Yuuri lingers and wonders if he should try talking to Viktor. But what would he say? _Hi, I’m Tuxedo Lutz, and when we message each other, I get the feeling that you’re lonely, want to talk about it?_ Urgh, how presumptuous of him. He can’t do that. He’s lucky he even made it this far, he should go…

But before he can, he’s shoved into a nearby closet.

“Wha…?” Yuuri flails, trying to fight off the attacker.

“Oi, stop moving, idiot! I just want to talk!” comes the angry shout.

“Y-Yuri P-Plisetsky?!” Sure enough, the rising star of Men’s Junior Skating glares up at him with an unreadable gaze. “What?! I mean, uh,” he tries not to blurt out _can I have your autograph._

“ _What?!_ ” from the growing red on Yuri Plisetsky’s cheeks, apparently Yuuri blurted it out anyways. “Never mind that, are you stupid?! You’re going to expose yourself!”

“Huh?!”

Plisetsky points his fingers aggressively at the shower of yellow primrose and white gardenias on the floor. A big clump of them that Plisetsky likely kicked into the closet too. Primrose for _desperate_ and gardenia for _secret love._

“You saw that?!” Yuuri squeaks.

“I’m surprised no one else did. You gotta be more careful, Katsuki, or the judges might find out!”

Yuuri starts to hyperventilate. Did he screw up during the Free Skate too? Are there some petals on the ice that no one noticed? What if someone notices them? Is Plisetsky going to tell anyone?!

“Calm the hell down!” Plisetsky hisses, looking unsure of what to do when Yuuri starts hyperventilating faster. “Aw, shit. Just… sit down with me, breathe, Katsuki. Breathe.”

It takes a while, what seems like forever, before Yuuri feels like he can breathe again.

“...I won’t tell anyone.”

Yuuri looks up at Plisetsky in surprise.

Plisetsky’s cheeks are slightly pink as he looks at the ground. “It’d be a waste of your talent for you to get kicked out now. I gotta beat you first before that happens! So watch out for me, Katsuki, I’ll show them what I’m made of. You better do the same, _I know you can skate better than that,_ Tuxedo Lutz. You better be at top form at Worlds!”

At first, Yuuri doesn’t know what to say. He’d been having expecting Plisetsky to accuse him of cheating or beat him up (he probably could, despite height differences.)

“...Why are you helping me?”

Plisetsky frowns. “Because I’m gifted too. I still want to skate.”

Oh. _Oh_. Yuuri starts to smile, and Yuri Plisetsky splutters.

“D-don’t get m-me wrong! I’ll still kick your ass at Worlds, Katsuki, so get your skating up to your TL standards by then!”

“I will. Good luck to you too.”

“I don’t need your luck, damn it!”

But Yuri still helps him up from the floor.

*

If only Yuri could pull Yuuri out of the banquet too. So far, Celestino has introduced Yuuri to a variety of eager potential sponsors and all Yuuri’s done is smile and nod. His coach gave him a glass of champagne so he can ‘wind down’ but Yuuri’s been too frightened to drink it (he knows _very well_ that he starts stripping and dancing and shouting about how awesome life is when he gets drunk. Phichit loves it.)

He spots Yuri brooding by the food and Chris chatting with his boyfriend. Yuuri starts to wonder where Viktor Nikiforov could be when—

His body collides with someone else and the untouched champagne spills over this person’s expensive looking jacket. Slowly Yuuri looks up in horror to see Viktor Nikiforov blinking down at him.

Inside, Yuuri starts screaming.

“I am so, _so_ sorry, I’m so clumsy! Where are the napkins?! Here, use my tie,” Yuuri yanks it off and starts dabbing his only tie against the stain, only for Viktor to flinch away. Oh no, Yuuri messed up. He messed up big time. He’s creating a scene which Viktor probably doesn’t want.  “Here, let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up. I can pay for the dry cleaning bill, does this jacket need to be dry cleaned?! Does champagne stain?!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Viktor tries to wave him away. But Yuuri keeps his grip firm.

“No, it’s not! Your jacket is ruined! Please let me take care of you!”

By now, most of the guests are watching them both, and Yuuri can’t meet Viktor’s stunned gaze or Yuri’s angry one from across the room. He’s doomed. _Doomed_. But that doesn’t stop him from pulling Viktor out of the banquet room, even if his shoulders shake, and rushing them to the bathroom.

*

“Really,” Viktor stops them before they enter, “this is nothing. I can get my suit cleaned tomorrow, no charge necessary.”

“But…!”

“Besides,” Viktor winks, making Yuuri blush deeper, “I’m grateful for the excuse to get away from that stuffy party. It’s the same thing every year.”

“O-oh…” Well, Viktor _did_ look bored in there… Yuuri just didn’t want to assume. “Still, I’m sorry. I really can pay for the dry cleaning bill if you need it. Um… do you still want to go back to the party?”

Viktor’s smile somehow becomes more distant and Yuuri finds himself wanting to chase it back.

“O-or we could e-explore the city!” When Viktor glances at him in surprise, Yuuri stutters, “I’ve n-never been to S-Sochi before, and I c-could use some company who knows the language?”

What is he doing. _What is he doing._ Did Yuuri accidentally drink alcohol without meaning to, _What. Is. He Doing._

And yet, when Viktor’s eyes brighten, he can’t bring himself to regret his choice.

*

Yuuri expected things to be awkward, but Viktor met his tentative invitation halfway and filled the silence with anecdotes about the must see landmarks in Russia. He talks about Moscow more often, but admits there are places he’s wanted to see in Sochi but never had the chance to. Yuuri loves listening to him talk, loves seeing the excited gleam he gets in his eyes when he points at a nearby club. “They make the best drinks!” he insists, pulling Yuuri inside.

Inside, Yuuri sees people dancing and grinding. The music itself sounds very techno. He thinks he recognizes a Daft Punk song mixed into the DJ’s mix and wonders how someone might incorporate that into a good routine.

“Drinks on me!” Viktor insists and Yuuri can’t say no to that face.

They down a few shots of vodka and Yuuri finds himself giggling more, smiling more, telling Viktor, “You’re so amazing!” every few minutes just in case the man forgets. He also apologizes a bit more for the suit, in case _he_ forgets.

Viktor starts to laugh uncontrollably after the fifteenth _you’re amazing_ and Yuuri thinks _good, because you are_ and he’s not sure why Viktor goes so red. Is he sick? Oh no, maybe they should go home…

“No!” Viktor insists. “I, uh, I’m having a good time.”

“Great!” Yuuri brightens, just as a familiar kpop song starts playing. “Oh! I know this one! We have to dance!”

“What?” Viktor blinks, “You mean, together?”

“Yes! Of course! Let’s dance!” Because dancing is how Yuuri talks, dancing is how Yuuri embraces the world and feels it embrace him back in the music. He wants Viktor to feel that too because Viktor is starting to look distant again, _longing_ , and if he dances, he’ll feel less alone. He’ll feel free, and Yuuri just wants Viktor to be free to create the best music possible with his body, to show the world his beauty.

Viktor gapes at him, and Yuuri just beams, and pulls him into a waltz combined with salsa.

They don’t stop dancing for hours.

*

“Why don’t you skate like this too?” Viktor says breathlessly, lights highlighting his hair and face like a halo. “Today you were beautiful on the ice but I had _no idea_ you could be even more… even more…”

“More what?” Yuuri leans in, watching Viktor’s eyes dilate. He can see all the little crystals of blue in those irises. He wants to see them all the time.

“More… breathtaking.”

Yuuri wants to float up into the clouds, he’s so happy. He wants to stay like this forever.

Viktor stops. His face pales, as he steps away from Yuuri.

Something cold settles in Yuuri’s chest. He made Viktor sad, he didn’t mean to. Viktor should _never_ be sad…!

“...Are those flowers under your feet?”

Yuuri wants to throw up.

Sure enough, when he looks down, he sees the floor covered with white poppy petals (white poppies for _rejoicing_ ) and he steps back, more petals falling from his footsteps.

“I…” Yuuri can’t think, can’t hear anything, “I can explain…” Oh no, Viktor’s looking at him and he can’t read his expression, “I just…”

Yuuri runs away.

 


End file.
